


Ferry to Manacor

by yilloofnarwin



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Songfic, Valentine's Day, freshly established relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 10:32:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6002551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yilloofnarwin/pseuds/yilloofnarwin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roger escorts Rafael home from Palma port to Manacor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ferry to Manacor

**Author's Note:**

> Valentine's Day part-fluff, part-PWP, but mostly just love between two guys who I do not own in any way. I truly hope you enjoy reading and find some little time to comment! Thank you in advance, and happy Valentine's, you all!! :)

Motto: Even Poseidon was gracious toward us today

 

_Nobody knows who I really am_  
_I never felt this empty before_  
_And if I ever need someone to come along_  
_Who’s gonna comfort me, and keep me strong_

I’m sitting at a little café’s terrace, sipping my iced cappuccino, keeping my eyes on the busy crowd of people who are waiting for some relatives or friends to arrive, or for their ship to leave the port.  
Just like me.  
However, I am waiting for something else as well.  
Everything seems so unorganized, yet has a well-working system.  
It’s like my life.  
Chaos rules inside me, and although I start to panic from time to time, still it does not know how to take over my whole mind.  
Because in the moment second to last I notice your form in the distance.  
Yes, I was waiting for you. And you came. I see your eyes scanning the square for the familiar figure, and when you recognize the café shop from my earlier describing, you lift the sunglasses up from your nose to check the proper sight. However you stand far from me, I am able to watch your expression when your eyes find the peach-coloured polo shirt I’m wearing. Your face lights up by your smile and you slowly approach me.  
You arrived. But I’m the one who gets home when you first take my hand.

_We are all rowing the boat of fate_  
_The waves keep on comin’ and we can’t escape_  
_But if we ever get lost on our way_  
_The waves would guide you thru another day_

If it weren’t for the noises that all these people surrounding us are making, I would have been dozing off after getting in the ferry, almost immediately.  
There are so many of them, filling the huge lobby-like space, still only ordering food and drinks, or already eating-drinking, and chatting animatedly with each other.  
I would feel lost among them. But I don’t. Because you are here with me.  
And after the sounds, you are the main reason of me getting more and more awake.  
Our table with comfortable seats and a couch-like piece of furniture around it is somewhat secluded, in one corner of the area. We can see the whole room but others don’t give any attention to us. We are way too out of their sight for that.  
“It’s cosy,” you say, and slip lower on the couch, straightening your long legs under the table.  
The movement pulls my eyes to your limbs, and I watch the muscles in your thighs rip under the blueish fabric of the pants.  
I swear I see a bulge at your crotch for a second, but the hem of the t-shirt covers the area, and your snickering guides my look back to your face.  
Your head rests on the board, loosen chestnut curls spreading everywhere.  
I sigh when my mind takes in you are wearing the blue shawl you had from me for a birthday back in time when we were only rivals on court and friends off it.  
One of your brows runs up, questioning me.  
I don’t say anything; only take in the sight of your full lips. When you notice this, your tongue pops out a bit and flickers the upper lip playfully.  
We do not need any answers, any words at all.  
I’m leaning in and looking into your eyes, walking my hands upward on your chest, and I kiss you.  
I feel how you touch my back and pull me so close that our bodies lie along with each other, and we both moan into our kiss.

_Nobody knows who I really am_  
_Maybe they just don’t give a damn_  
_But if I ever need someone to come along_  
_I know you would follow me, and keep me strong_

“Here we cannot…” I breathe out when your mouth travels down on my neck and you suck some skin in.  
“They could see!” I protest again.  
“They don’t give a damn, love,” you say and grab my arse cheeks as naturally as we were in the sanctuary of our house.  
You take my hand and demand, “Touch my cock! It has been aching for you for days!” And you push my palm onto your crotch, almost making me shriek from the surprise.  
Your hips lift up for more friction and while you are keeping my hand still there, you are starting to rub yourself into it from below. Your body is amazingly hot, not at all as disturbingly heated like the air outside lately. You throw back your head, exposing the long and strong neck, and your moans turn into soft groaning.  
I’m drinking up the sight. I know I could probably get the orgasm of my life only from watching you humping my palm. But a nosy cough of a person from behind us just breaks my haze and I turn. A waiter is here, bringing our drinks we asked for, putting the glasses on the table, nodding, then leaving us alone again.  
Both of us blankly stare at the colourful cocktails, until I grab mine and pour it down my throat with continuous swallowing.  
You are watching it, amazed. When I put back the empty glass on the table, I wipe my lips and look at you.  
“I think I drink too much,” announce I. “I need the men’s’ room, no?”  
“I need _to use_ ,” you are correcting with a chuckle, shaking your head, and I stand up, comb my fingers through my hair and smooth down my clothes. Then I turn and leave that simply, not even looking back.  
I feel your eyes on me the entire time.  
And I know, before I turn right, outside the glass doors, you rise from your seat to follow me.

_And every time I see your face_  
_The oceans heave up to my heart_  
_You make me wanna strain at the oars_  
_And soon I can see the shore_

I check the bathroom; it’s empty. So I leave the door slightly open that you can know it’s safe to come after me. And you are here, closing it again, looking at me through the mirror on the wall.  
Your face is angelic. And your eyes sparkle with a devilish glow.  
“In the last stall,” you tell, and push me toward the place, then in, coming along and locking the door behind us.  
We change places and you sit on the closed lid of the toilet.  
I look down at you, a smile playing on my lips.  
“Walking I felt drops dripping out of me and wetting my pants,” I say, and you let out a groan, longing evident in your eyes.  
“You hardly ever talk like that, God! Off with them!” you demand, and I quickly slip out of my shorts and underwear, holding them in my hand.  
You take the piece of clothes, drop the shorts on the floor, and keep the briefs to smell it, and finding the wet patch on it, lick my escaped essence off.  
“Mierda,” I utter, and come closer to you, while you put my briefs in your pocket and leaning a bit back, push your pants down, along with your boxers. You hiss at the air hitting your hard cock, and all I wish is only sink onto my knees and clamp my mouth on the swollen flesh here and now.  
“Nuh-uh,” say you, “No way you are gonna suck me now! I have other ideas!”  
You scrape your fingers up and down on your thighs lazily, and the pure erotic of the scene makes me leak more. Precome is dropping down from me on to the tiles, and when I moan from the shirt’s hem sliding on it, you thrust up your hips and pearls appear on the tip of your erection, as well.  
“Up with the shirt, Raf!” you say, and I obey, lifting the cloth with my hands and pulling it upward until it reaches my nipples.  
You stare at me, taking in the revealed skin, then grab your cock and point it straight upward.  
“Come closer!” comes the soft command and I almost faint then from the effect of these two tiny words.  
But I get a grip soon, stand over your lap, my legs on both of your sides, and lower myself. Your fingers slide up on my inner thigh, traveling further and finding my entrance there. After a short rub on, you pull your fingers back and reach in a pocket to have a small tube of lube. Popping it open, you pour some amount on your index finger and then you push it to my hand.  
“Coat me, baby, please!” you ask, and again, I feel the urge to obey, so I get a more generous amount of the gel, and throwing the tube aside, I slip my palms together for a warming effect. You only watch me first, then while I’m carefully touch your shaft with both hands, from tip to base, and back up, you suppress a too loud moan, and get into action, reaching between my arse cheeks again and sliding the index in without much ado.  
I feel like just swatting your hand away and sitting on your cock that simply, but you pull the finger back on your own and my hands stop to make room for yours, gripping the base and pointing your erection right upward.  
“Now… vamos, Rafa!” you say with glint in your eyes.  
I can’t but grin and slip closer for you guiding your cock to my arse and pushing the head in.  
I hiss, because the angle is not really satisfying at first, but then you murmur a soft sorry and pull out to grab my right hand, using it to coat yourself more thoroughly.  
When you are ready, you slip the head in again and the hands leave the area, grabbing my hips and pulling me down onto you.  
Either of us can hold back the meowing sounds.  
I stay calm for a while, seated on your cock, but then my hands don’t take it anymore and I let them roam on our thighs, arms and chest.  
It brings you back from the dazed state, and with the help of your strong hands, you start lifting me up, and letting down again.  
I steady myself on your shoulders and my hands slip into your locks, taking fistfuls of them, holding on them. It must be a bit painful, considering your hissing.  
You keep up a faster rhythm now, and your head falls back, giving me a perfect opportunity of devouring your neck, and claiming it as mine by making a spectacular hickey on it. You are sure going to tell me off for that.  
My inside begins contracting when your hands leave my hips and you spread your palms on my chest, squeezing, then pinching the hardened nipples with your fingers.  
I feel your legs shaking while I’m slamming into you constantly, now directing the action as you are losing the battle against your closing orgasm.  
After a hard inner grip of mine on your cock, one of your hands sinks into my hair and yanks my head toward you, your mouth crashes on mine; your tongue aggressively pushes into me, demanding me to suck on it.  
I do, with vehemence, and my whole body becomes a wrecked mess when your fingers return to my arse to caress the cleft where we are joint.  
The whole length of your tongue is out of your mouth now, and I suck it as if it was your cock, sliding my lips up and down on it.  
We both forget about the public place, moan, and groan so loud that probably it can be heard from Palma to Manacor, everywhere.  
“Try to hold still when it’s here,” you whisper after I release your lips again. “I wanna feel your every stir on me!”  
And when you scrape harshly on my prostate once more, your hands squeezing my arse, my inner muscles clamp down on you and I sit there, my belly aching, and my orgasm ripping out of me, my come splashing all over your stomach and chest, sticking into the curly hair there, and spreading out all over my body, reaching yours where we are connected. I’m shaking on you, chanting Roger into your ear, my nails dig into your shoulders, leaving marks.  
My forehead is resting in the junction of your neck, lips ghosting over the skin there, and I’m breathing my love onto you.  
Your breathing is ragged and I feel your palm sliding around me to gently touch my now softening cock, pulling on it, earning some last drops out of me. I shudder with every move.  
“Can you squeeze me again?” you ask, and I realize that you haven’t come yet.  
My passage, obeying my will, clenches on your erection, and your body immediately cambers, your head bends back again, eyes tightly closed, and I feel your cock throb in me, pouring warmness deep inside me.  
Then everything gets motionless and silent.  
You open your eyes slowly, lifting your head and look at me with the most pleased smile that I have ever seen.  
As if they were escorting our first moves, the noises of the outside world are starting to reach us again, reminding us of the place we are at.  
I lift up and you slip out of me. I already miss the contact.  
You tear some paper and give it to me, tear some more for you, and we clean ourselves up.  
I watch you standing up and sticking your bits back in your pants. A part of my underwear is hanging out of your pocket.  
“Was?” you ask.  
“I can get them back, no?”  
“Oh,” you snicker, and pull out the cloth, handing it to me.  
I put them on, hissing when it hits my sensitive parts. I blush.  
“Is cool from… licking,” I explain, seeing your curious look.  
You grin and nod toward the cubicle.  
“You go piss – that’s why you have come here in the first place, isn’t it?”  
And you turn to leave, unlock the door but I reach out for holding you back, pressing my front into your back and whispering into your hair.  
“Te quiero!”  
Turning your head to the side, I kiss you last time before we leave the bathroom.

_I want you to know who I really am_  
_I never thought I’d feel this way towards you_  
_And if you ever need someone to come along_  
_I will follow you, and keep you strong_

The sunset is approaching now; its lights slowly reach us and blanket everything with an orange-pink shade.  
We are staring out of the huge windows beside our table.  
My head lies on your shoulder and you softly smoothing your fingers up and down on my arm.  
It’s calming. It’s the safest I know.  
Who could have had even the slightest idea that we would come this far together?

_And every time I see your face_  
_The oceans heave up to my heart_  
_You make me wanna strain at the oars_  
_And soon I can see the shore_

I surely dozed off for a while because I come back from an unconscious state when I feel someone shaking me gently.  
When I open my eyes at last, I see you. Your grinning face.  
“It’s only about half an hour left, Raf, and we are home again,” you tell me.  
I stare at you, seeing the blue scarf neatly wrapped around your neck. You never say a word about the red patch of skin I caused. I smile, then I look out of the window once more, but there is nothing much to see, it’s too late, the sun has already returned to the other side of the world, leaving darkness for us.  
I turn back to you and take your hands in mine.  
“No,” I claim. “This is home!”

 

Song by Rie Fu, called ’Life is like a boat’


End file.
